


Garden life

by Dinkdidnothingwrong



Series: Bonzo needs a competent guardian [2]
Category: Ender's Game - All Media Types, Homestuck
Genre: Broken Bones, Daddy Issues, Tea Parties, Wrists
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-11
Updated: 2019-05-11
Packaged: 2020-03-01 05:13:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18793699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dinkdidnothingwrong/pseuds/Dinkdidnothingwrong
Summary: Bonzo likes to host people in his family's garden. His father doesnt always approve of his company.(Tags I cant add: Amoro Madrid, Stilson, Ftaher Son violence, Hyrums an honorary dad, )





	Garden life

**Author's Note:**

> Okay this is just for me but plesse if you are squeamish theres a really gross scene in here so be careful

“H3 d03sn’t w4nt t0 t4lk.” Amoro did not care for the Sylph of Space. Leet-speak was hard to translate in spoken word, and the boy was the only thing between him and his son. It had three weeks since Bonzo had arrived home, and after week one he promptly moved off the couch and into the garden, an rather large shed re-painted and re-furnished for his convince. Amoro hadn’t questioned it at the time, and besides, the boy had taken over the work of maintaining the garden, so it was fair trade. But now he realized Bonzo wanted nothing to do with his Father anymore, and the Garden was a physical barrier between the two. He took his meals there, studied alone among the roses, and hosted his friends completely out of view of the house. All Amoro was asking of the young Sylph was to be briefly let in to this secret world his son had cultivated for himself, if only to ask him who he was hosting today.   
“I don’t want to talk. Please, it’s only proper for me to introduce myself.” That would catch his attention. Bonzo was rather taken these days with all manners of high society, what was proper and expected, what made everything just so and elegant rather than uppity. It was proper for the house owner to introduce himself, but not to linger and steal the grace of the host. He would meet Bonzo’s guests, maybe say a few precious words to Bonzo himself and be gone.   
“Let him in Stilson. The host of the host is allowed.” Amoro smirked and pushed past the Sylph, entering the hedges. He’d taken excellent care of them, and silently Amoro was proud. Stepping into the tea circle, he smiled as Bonzo poured him a cup of tea and handed it to him. “Poke, Seargent, this is my father. He is the one letting me stay in the Casadeflores.” The older beamed. That was a trick he’d taught Bonzo when he was very young, the slurring of Spanish words to make something more exciting to foreigners. Looking up from his drink, Amoro spied the young guests of his son, and could not control his laughter. They were two raggedy street children, who were listening intently but also stuffing themselves silly. Being as they were, they did not understand Amoro’s laughter and assumed it was simply an inside joke between the others. Bonzo, however, glared daggers at his father. “What are you laughing at?” He spat.  
“Bonzo this is wonderful. Spoiling needy children. How nice.”  
“I am not spoiling them. They’re my guests. I invited them for tea, and while they aren’t particularly dressed up they don’t need to be. Tea among friends is no need for special attire.” Amoro stopped. He couldn’t be serious, could he? When had he even met these kids?   
“Bonzo this is incredibly kind, but…that!” Amoro gestured wildy towards the others, who’d picked up by now on the fact that he was insulting them. “is not a proper guest! Do not kid them!”   
“The only joke here is you!” What.  
“Excuse me?”  
“You’ve insulted my guests, wasted my time, and been incredibly rude to my doorman for choosing to speak in the way he pleases. Leave my hedges.” Now that was no way to speak to one’s father.  
“Now, my opinion on the matter is that you’re-“  
“Father I could not care less about your opinion!” Amoro froze, stunned. Bonzo had never spoken to him that way. His tone was fiery and exuberant, as if he were screaming in front an entire crowd. In some terrible way it reminded Amoro of himself. “I’ve never cared for the opinions of fools and I don’t intend to start! You’re certainly making yourself out to be one now, and if it continues like this soon your words will go in one of my ears and out the other without me even hearing them! Truly, if you have any grace left in you, you’ll see yourself out now and thank me when I invite you back in.” Dumbstruck, Amoro set down his cup and left the Garden. Behind him he could hear Bonzo apologizing to his guests and the Sylph telling him he’d done the right thing to assure the sanctity of the Garden. Quietly he retreated to his room and sobbed. He knew he’d been rude, but Bonzo’s words had cut into his heart and cemented the reality of just how much they’d grown apart. Peering out the window, he saw the children enjoying themselves in the fading light of dusk, chatting and giggling and all around being worth more to his son they he was. Throwing the curtains together messily, Amoro undressed and retired early.   
“Papa?” Amoro grunted and rolled over. “Are you still awake?” He nodded, and smiled sloppily as the brown blur by his bed side focused into his son.   
“Bonzo what are you doing in my room so late?”   
“Its only 9:00.”   
“Oh. Well are you sick? Does your stomach hurt?”  
“No, I…I just wanted to apologize for today. In the garden.” Bonzo's eyes trailed down to his feet, and his cheeks were red with shame. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you. Not in front of guests.” Oh he was not in the mood for this.  
“Of course you shouldn't. If that’s all you have to say, leave. I’m trying to sleep.”   
“But Papa I-“  
“Go! Don't bother me with apologies that only meant to make you feel good about being a bad son.” Bonzo whimpered miserably and left, Amoro’s chest constricting. Part of him wanted to call Bonzo back in and give his own apology, but he was far too proud and angry for that. Pressing himself to the door, he heard Bonzo go back down the stairs and outside to the shed. He seemed to stop outside in the yard, almost as if…  
Creeping to the window (and slipping on some pants), Amoro opened the window and stared down at his son. Those eyes so much like his mother’s, that face so much like his own. But there was something different there that he couldn’t place, couldn’t understand. Some kind of deep resignation about the fate of himself and his family, as though he’d known that this moment would come since the very day he was born. He went to speak then closed his mouth again, resting his head on his arms. Amoro couldn’t help him, could he? Maybe he should call that Hyrum fellow back, maybe that would be best for h-  
“Papa?”  
“Yes?”  
“I’m sorry about all this. And not just the Garden, all,” He gestured vaguely towards the stars and above, waving his arms like a madman. “of this. I try my best to make sure the universe runs smoothly, but smoothly doesn’t mean happily. I’m sorry we couldn’t be happy.”  
“Bonzo what are you talking about? Its not your job to make anyone happy.”  
“But Papa it is! I’m the only one who can tell, I’m the only who listens. I knew what would happen with you and Mom, then when the beta session would start, hell even my own death I knew about in advance! This was supposed to make everything better, but,” Bonzo's chest heaved, and Amoro felt as if he would start crying again. “I think it just made everything worse. Including us.”  
“Bonzo please-“  
“I’m really sorry. Again.” Bonzo turned and walked to the shed, Amoro retreating back into his own room.   
“God DAMNIT!” He slammed his fist into the wall, yelping at the pain. Tears rolled down his face, his glasses ajar and barely on his face. Why couldn’t he just talk to him? Was he that incompetent? He shouldn’t have had children. He shouldn’t of humored the boy. He should call Hyrum.  
He should get rid of hm.  
He looked back at the wall and saw there was a dent about twice the size of his hand. He reminded him of something Hyrum had said on his visit before Bonzo had got there. He asked if the IF was still trying to shift the blame for his son’s death. “Now really sir,” He’d chuckled. “whose running from who?” The longer he stared, the angrier he became. How dare he think of getting rid of him. He’d started this whole mess, he would fucking fix it.   
The room was rather bare now, and Amoro had told Bonzo he’d turn it into a storage room, but of course he wouldn’t. Remnants of his childhood room were scattered around, books and toys he’d loved when he was younger. Most of them were donated by now, given away to whoever or whatever would take them. The wallpaper was still there, but enough of it had peeled off that you couldn’t tell exactly what the picture was. “I hate it.” Bonzo had said, immediately tearing the place apart. Amoro stood out of his way, figuring it was just what teenagers did when faced with a living space so childish. Slowly, he bent down and picked up an old stuffed animal of his, and decided it work. Going down the kitchen, which was barely used these days, and made tea. He liked peach right? Maybe? He should know. It didn’t matter. Amoro poured the tea into a small cup and went out to the shed, knocking before entering anyway. “I brought you Peach tea. And Gidget! Do you still like Gidget?” The lump of blankets twisted, and Bonzo's arm thrust out at him, ripping the frog from his hand as politely as possible. Amoro set the tea on his bed side table, and sat down on the bed's edge. “You missed your frog didn’t you?”  
“Somewhat.”  
“I thought so.” He gently rubbed Bonzo's back, or what looked like his back, it was hard to tell. “This isn't your fault Bonzo, you know that right? Everything that’s happened, from the session to our divorce.”  
“What about my death?”  
“That, yes, was poor judgement. But also sadly inventible. You were as doomed as a heir Bonzo, but you did a lot to move it along. Yet, you've…changed. I expected you to be the child I lost all those years ago, but you're…you. I can't force you to be my darling boy Bonzo, but I want to help you be in a place where you don't feel like you have to kill another child.”  
“Funny you never ask why I did it. Are you scared of it?”  
“Tomas?”  
“Yes?”  
“Never imply that I’m ever scared of you.” Bonzo cringed internally, recognizing the tone from too many demerits and visits to Graff's office. “You may be a soldier, but I-“  
“Am a patriot. You fight for the sake of violence. I fight for the sake of my world, my life, my son. Never imply I don't listen.” Amoro sighed, then laughed.   
“You really are mine Bonzo! Quoting my speeches back at me like a true Madrid!”  
“With your track record, it’s only natural to have doubts about my origin.”   
“Please don't.” Amoro whispered quietly. “I know why you left. I understand what I did to you. That’s why I’ve been trying to help you through this, trying to reconnect with you! I want to fix this!”   
“But you can't!” Bonzo yelled, slamming his hands against his desk. His skin crawled as Amoro stared into those flaming eyes, full of rage. “What you did has shaped everything I’ve ever done! I tried my damnedest not to become you Dad! I was going to be a good person, someone better than you in every way, but to do that I had to get away from you! You! You're the reason I went to Battle School Dad! You did this!”  
“Bonzo ple-“  
“GET OUT!” He grabbed the tea by his beside, but Amoro caught his wrist before he could fling it at him.   
“Is this better then me?! Burning your father shows you're going to become better than me? No wonder people act the way they do around you!”  
“Fuck off!” Bonzo cried, tears prickling at the sides of his eyes. Amoro's eyes flashed purple, hands glowing with an odd light, and a single short snap rang through the room. Both froze, Bonzo's gaze trailing down to his wrist, which hung loosely and ripped on his arm. Amoro tilted his head somewhat, and he pushed it somewhat. The bone tore through his skin, and the glow faded. “Papa?”  
“I-“ Amoro dropped the limb and raced into the house, pain finally hitting Bonzo as he screamed behind him. Quickly dialing the hospital, then Graff, Amoro stood in the yard as paramedics loaded Bonzo into the back of an ambulance and drove off into the night. “It was m-“  
“You've already lost your rights to see him.”  
“Make sure he knows that I love him.”  
“I don't think he cares about that Amoro.”   
“I didn’t mean to hurt him.”  
“You didn’t mean to cheat on your wife. You really are unlucky Amoro, always stumbling into these things.” Graff snipped, stalking off to his car. He had preparations to make back home.


End file.
